


(Sometimes) All It Takes Is Time

by RosevalleyNB



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Post-Break Up, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-04-20 16:11:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4793969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosevalleyNB/pseuds/RosevalleyNB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For some, time heals all wounds and is a promise of a better life if you’re patient. For others, it is just a reminder of what they have lost and will never get back. One night a year ago, a long overdue argument put and end to Katie and Marcus' relationship. </p>
<p>Now he's back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimers apply: anything recognisable is not mine.

Sometimes, time goes by so fast that it’s hard to get a grip on it. No matter how much you want for it to slow down so you can catch your breath and process the happenings in your life, it never does. For some, time heals all wounds and is a promise of a better life if you’re patient enough. For others, it's just a reminder of what they have lost and will never get back. Time encourages you with its ticking; reminds you to take action now to cash in on that potential. Or, it mocks you with it, a constant reminder that you had your chance and passed on it.

 

Time: for some a foe, for others a friend.

 

For Katie Bell, time was a cruel mistress. Her calendar was a harsh reminder of that time of the year. An anniversary of the one thing she had lost because of her foolishness and insecurities. Last year, she had been happy, ridiculously so even. But, a year ago tomorrow, she'd ruined that happiness by making a mistake with far fetching consequences. 

 

Not only had she ruined her happiness by listening to her friends because that was easier, but she had also hurt the one who had been the source of her happiness. Each time she closed her eyes, she could see the anger, hear the harsh words, and feel the hot tears sting her eyes. All she had left now were the ‘what if’s’ eating away at her.

 

_‘Think about your career. You’re up next to make it to the first team.’_

 

It had taken her mere minutes to realise that she and her friends had been wrong. She should have known about her friends’ bias against him. Even with their Hogwarts days long since behind them, her friends had never bothered to look beyond the memory of the teenage boy he had been back then. They had refused to see the man he had become, the one she had fallen in love with, heart and soul.

 

Willingly, she had allowed her friends to taint her mind. In her anger, she had lost sight of his qualities and had fixated on his flaws. She had thrown them in his face while paying no heed to her own, without giving him a chance to explain himself.

 

And when she told him to get out and never come back, he had listened just as she'd wanted him to do. As soon as the door had slammed close behind him, she had realised what she had done and lost: her best friend, her lover, and the love of her life.

 

 

Still, it took her more than a day to gather her senses and go after him to apologise. In those twenty-four hours it took her to muster up the courage to face him, he had packed up everything and left the country to pursue his dreams. He hadn’t left a note or a final goodbye. She'd told him to get lost, and that was what he had done.

 

_‘As befits a real tosser. Good riddance, Katie.’_

 

The days and weeks following that night, she had altered between sheer anger and sadness. She had cursed him for taking the easy way out and cried at nights for him to come back. Only after one of his friend’s had reluctantly told her the whole story about what was supposed to be their dream, she had come to understand him better.

 

He had never wanted her to give up on her chances at a career, as she had accused him of demanding. This new knowledge had made her feel worse, deepening the gaping hole in her chest. All she had wanted to do after that one-sided conversation was to run to him, beg him to forgive her.

 

_‘It’s best if you stay away, Miss Bell. You’ve done enough.’_

 

A year ago today, she had been happy. Now, not so much.

 

***

 

Sighing, Katie pushed her chair away from her desk. It was just past five on Friday afternoon, time to go home, cross another miserable day off her calendar, and spend her weekend holed up in her flat, ignoring her family and friends’ pleas to contact them.

 

The Quidditch career she had dreamt of never happened, her place on the Chudley Canons’ reserve team lost to a younger witch who had just finished Hogwarts. With her twenty-two years, she wasn’t too old at all, but her lacking performance in the last year had cost Katie her spot. It hadn’t deterred her, though. The day she lost him, she'd lost her passion for the game.

 

The hallway leading to lifts were empty, thankfully. The only sounds were the clacking of her heels on the linoleum as she hurried to get home, her head ducked to elude contact in case someone had stayed behind. Her job as an assistant at the Quidditch League Headquarters at the Ministry was nice enough, but she preferred to avoid her colleagues as much as possible.

 

Solitude is what she wanted. From eating her lunch in her office and turning down all invitations to inter-department events, she went out of her way to avoid all forms of unnecessary contact. In a year’s time, Katie had turned from a cheery young woman to a recluse, and she couldn’t find it in herself to be bothered with it. The false jovial attitude was too tiring to keep up; this was for the best.

 

Her colleagues had left earlier than usual today to get ready for the annual ball in celebration of the new Quidditch season. She had passed on helping with the organisation this year, unable to stomach the memories that clung to the event. Just a year ago, she would have worked non-stop to organise it and counted down to minutes to attend the festivities. Last year, she had spent the night swaying in his arms, her head on his chest as she listened to his comforting heartbeat.

 

_‘You’re a horrible dancer, Bell.’_

_‘That’s because you stampeded all over my toes instead of waltzing like a proper wizard. And you know what, I’m still better at it, even with broken toes.’_

 

The soft ping of the lift brought her back from the rush of unwanted memories. Unshed tears blurred her vision as she stepped in. More than ever, she longed to go home and wallow in her misery. Luck was on her side once more when she found the lift empty. Her only company in the small compartment was the soft, frustratingly cheery music.

 

Her eyes travelled unseeingly over the announcement board. Usually, none of the messages would register; the words were nothing but a black blur on the brightly coloured background. As long as none of the announcements affected her directly, she didn’t care for any them. Today was different, though. A yellow piece of parchment caught her eye, in specific a name on it seemed to jump out. Trembling, Katie reached for it. Her finger lightly traced over the name before she ripped the piece of paper from the board.

 

It was the formal announcement of the Quidditch ball, the programme for tonight printed right underneath the bold print. She focussed on what was to happen at ten o’clock, where the name popped up: the ceremonious introduction of all the new players in the Premier League. His name was on there. Frantically, Katie turned and studied the piece of paper, pinched herself even. She needed to make sure that this was this year’s programme. She needed to know that she wasn’t delusional.

 

To her relieve, she wasn’t. Marcus Flint had returned.

 

***

The volunteers had transformed the Ministry Atrium into an elegant ballroom; the dimmed lights, beautiful decorations and the orchestra created an intimate atmosphere. Katie did not notice any of that, though, her attention was on something else entirely.

 

For nearly two hours now she had been standing here, the same glass of champagne untouched and warm in her hand. There was still no sign of him, only the familiar faces of her colleagues and the occasional Quidditch player. She even saw some of her friends with their partners in the distance and happily ignored them. There was just one reason for her to be here tonight, and they were not it.

 

“Please, be here,” she whispered to herself as she craned her neck to see around a large group obscuring the entrance.

 

It wasn’t until after the announcement of next season’s Quidditch schedule, nearly two hours later, that she saw him. There, by the fountain stood the man who still owned shards of her broken heart.

 

He looked healthy and happy and aside from the tan and longer hair he hadn’t changed a bit. She could see him laughing at something and imagined she could hear the boisterous sound. There had been a time when his laughter had made her laugh along, no matter how angry or sad she had been. Even thinking about those days had her lips curl up into a small smile.

 

Katie nervously wiped her clammy hand on the skirt of her dress and took a deep breath in a feeble attempt to calm her nerves.

 

 “You can do this. What’s the worst that can happen?”

 

With her eyes glued on him, she made her way across the room, reciting all the things she wanted to say and apologise for her foolishness. Even if the night wouldn't turn out as she wanted, she hoped to get at least closure. Maybe then, the suffocating weight on her chest would lift, and she could move on with her life.

 

He had his back turned towards her by the time she reached him, talking to someone she couldn’t see. For a fleeting moment, Katie was at a loss as nerves got the better of her. She cleared her throat a few times, but the sound got lost in the loud music.

 

_‘Please, turn around and look at me.’_

 

Eventually, it was someone else who managed to attract his attention. The owner of the Tornadoes, a loud man, called out to him. Unlike hers, the man’s deep voice carried over the music and loud chatter as he pushed through the crowds to reach Marcus.

 

“Flint, old boy, for a minute there I thought my new star player wasn’t going to show up.”

 

Katie couldn’t hide her smile at what she heard. Marcus had always wanted to play for the Tutshill Tornados, and she couldn't be prouder that he had finally made it. As he turned to shake his new boss’ hand, the person he had been talking to came into sight: a petite dark-haired woman. Katie didn’t recognise her, but the way the woman kept her hand on Marcus’ arm spoke of familiarity. Her heart broke a little more, and her already foreign feeling smile faltered.

 

“Thompson.” Marcus nodded in greeting. “It’s good to see you again. You remember Elena?”

 

“Missus Flint,” Ignatius Thompson muttered as he bowed deep and kissed her hand, “How could I forget such a beautiful lady.”

 

Breathing became difficult.

 

_‘I’m too late.’_

 

The worst part came when the women put her left hand on her slightly rounding stomach, something Katie had missed before. Marcus grinned at the gesture; the look in his eyes was one of fondness. Shocked and in disbelief, Katie dropped the glass she had been clutching onto as her beacon. Right at that moment, the orchestra paused, and the sound of the shattering glass seemed to resonate through the room. The three people standing before her turned around. If Marcus had been surprised to see her, he didn’t show it.

 

“Bell.” Her name was the only hint of recognition he offered, his face a blank mask.

 

They just watched each other for what seemed an eternity. All the things Katie had wanted to say to him, tell him, never reached her lips. All she managed were laboured breaths and rapid blinking, trying hard not to break down.

 

“Well, I hate to break up his…whatever this is,” Thompson said uncomfortably and waved his hand between the two former lovers, “But, we need to go backstage. The introductions are about to begin.”

 

Marcus broke the eye contact and addressed the man. “Yes, of course. Elena, are you coming?”

 

The woman smiled and nodded curtly in greeting before she turned to Marcus. Still sweetly smiling as she reached up to whisper something in his ear, she pointed discreetly at Katie. He frowned at her words and shook his head in reply.

 

“No, not now,” was his brusque answer and led her away, following the older man.

 

The reverence in which he guided the woman, shielding her from the other guests, unleashed an envy Katie hadn't felt before. The intimacy of the gesture had her nearly screaming. Again, no sound came out. Instead, she stood rooted to her spot, unable to move or talk. It wasn't until Marcus was too far out of her reach that her paralysis broke.

 

Finally, finding her voice, she whispered pleadingly, “Marcus.” 

 

He didn't hear her, nor did he glance back once. When the announcers called him to the stage, she let out a quivering sigh and turned around to leave. There was no need in prolonging this torture any further.

 

Katie wasn’t sure what hurt the most; that he had found happiness with someone who wasn’t her, or the fact that he had treated her as if she was a stranger.

 

_‘He doesn’t owe you anything, Bell. Stay away.’_

 

***

 

It was a clear night, the stars visible for the first time in a long time after a very rainy summer. Katie sat curled up in her favourite chair, watching the twinkling lights from her living room window in hopes that something in stars would make her feel something else than numbness. Maybe, a good cry would release her from the heavy, constricting feeling in her chest. Unfortunately, even her tears had abandoned her tonight.

 

The untouched mug of tea had cooled down in her hands as she replayed the night over and over again. If only she could turn back time and stop herself from attending the ball. It would have spared her the new heartbreak. Yesterday she might not have been happy, but she hadn’t been this miserable either.

 

“Stupid, stupid bint,” she chided herself, “What did you expect? That he'd wait for you after all the rubbish you’ve said to him?”

 

Eventually, Katie stood up from her chair and dragged herself to bed when the faint pinkish light of a new day appeared on the horizon. Images of her previous life and daydreams of what could have been kept sleep at bay for a long time.

 

Her exhausted mind finally allowed her to close her eyes when the streets outside came to life.

 

***

 

The months dragged on for Katie, she existed instead of lived. Her parents watched in agony as their daughter retreated further into herself again, a mere shell they didn't recognise anymore. Their words of worry didn’t get through to her until her mother broke down one day, crying and begging Katie to come back to life again. Against everyone's expectations, seeing her mother’s tears and hearing her heartfelt words, finally stirred her awake.

 

That had been the moment for her to force herself to climb out the dark depths of her depression. It wasn’t easy road to travel. For every two steps forward, a significant step back seemed to counter her progress. Nevertheless, just before Christmas, a sliver of holiday joy brought out her old self. The lights and decorations in Diagon Alley, the carollers and the smell of roasted chestnuts brought a genuine smile to her face and since a long time, the memories of better times became easier to handle.

 

As Katie navigated through the extremely busy shopping street, she realised that she didn’t mind the many shoppers around her, the one thing she usually hated about Christmas time. In fact, the all over cheery mood was infectious. She laughed and chatted with everyone who approached her and spent more money than ever on presents for her family and friends she had hesitantly started reaching out to. It didn’t mean that they were close again, but maybe one day they would be.

 

She had just left Aphrodite’s Soap Salon when she bumped into someone and fell on her bum, spilling her bags and packages all over the floor. Her cheeks glowed with embarrassment for her clumsiness, an apology ready on her lips. The words dried up in her throat, and anxiety took over when she finally noticed whom she had bumped into.

 

It had to be a coincidence; she couldn't accept it nor handle it if escaping him was an impossibility. She had been doing so well lately, but looking into those familiar grey eyes had her on the edge again.

 

“Katie,” he greeted her softly, staring down at her with his hand stretched out. “Are you alright?”

 

It would be so easy to reach out and take his hand, allow him to help her up to her feet. However, knowing that it would never be that easy when it came to Marcus, she couldn’t bring herself to take it.

 

“I’m fine.” Ignoring his hand, Katie stood up and began collecting her packages. Despite her prayers and wishes for him to disappear, she could feel his eyes burn into her back.

 

“You left.”

 

Katie stilled for a minute at the words, unsure if he was even talking to her. When he repeated the comment, she slowly turned around. “Excuse me?”

 

“The Ministry Ball, you were gone when I came back.” He frowned at her as if he didn’t understand why she would do such a thing.

 

Katie swallowed hard as she tried to reign in the glimmer of hope. She had to tell herself that he hadn’t come looking for her to profess his undying love. “Why would I have stayed?”

 

“Because you wanted to talk to me,” he replied slowly, “So, what was it you'd wanted to say?”

 

Katie shook her head in unreasonable disappointment and continued gathering the last of her bags without answering him. What she had wanted to say that night didn't matter anymore. He had his life and soon, with hard enough work, she would as well. Without a glance in his direction, she passed him and walked out the shop.

 

“You’ve altered the wards,” he called after her, bitterness lacing his voice.

 

Katie stopped dead in her tracks, not daring to turn back. People rushed by, some looking at her with indignation and muttering about the rudeness of stopping in the middle of a busy street. She ignored them as she tried to calm her racing heart and mind. Had he come to her flat? When?

 

Marcus kept on talking, his tone getting louder with each word he spat out at her. “You’ve locked me out, just like you with everything else in your life. Was I easy to erase? Is that why you came up to me at the ball? To rub it in my face?”

 

Katie turned around, angered by the unfounded accusations. He stood closer than she had expected. His eyes were ablaze with fury, and his breathing harsh pants.

 

“You left me, not the other way around,” she managed to choke out in as she took a step back.

 

“Think hard, Bell,” Marcus hissed, his face now mere inches from hers, “Get out and don’t ever come back. Those were your last words, remember?”

 

Katie didn’t respond; he didn’t have to remind her. How could she forget after memorising and replaying each word spoken that night non-stop? She hadn’t meant any of them, regretted them the second they had left her mouth. Was it worth dragging that back up now?

 

“I do. Believe me, I do.” The suffocating sadness Katie thought to have battled and nearly beaten washed over her again, immediately numbing the anger. She needed to get away from here before he witnessed her crumble into a pile of misery.

 

“I’m sorry for bothering you that night. It won’t happen again. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get going.”

 

“I don’t think so, Bell.”

 

Before Katie could comprehend what was happening, Marcus pulled her close to his body and DisApparated with a loud crack, leaving behind the curious witches and wizards who had watched the interaction with interest. It wasn’t long before the first versions of what had happened reached inquiring ears. 


	2. Chapter 2

Katie didn’t need to look around to recognise her surroundings. Once, it had been their getaway at the beginning of their relationship. A safe place where they had been able to hide away from the prying eyes and scathing comments from their friends and families while they got to know each other better.

 

No one had been happy when the Gryffindor sweetheart and the big-headed Slytherin had announced their relationship. Here, they had been Katie and Marcus and no one else had mattered. And that alone made his family’s summer cottage in Tinworth a special place for her.

 

He had no right to take those memories from her.

 

“Why are we here?” Katie clutched on to her purchases, ready to bolt as soon as she got the chance.

 

“We need to talk without an audience.” With a flick of his wand, the hearth roared to life, warming the small living room in an instant. “Sit.”

 

“There is nothing more left to say. You have your life, and I have…mine. I can’t stay.”

 

Marcus paid her no attention and busied himself with appraising the bottles in the liquor cabinet. When he found the right one, he poured two glasses to the rim. “Sit, have a drink with me.”

 

“I can’t,” whispered Katie, “I need to go.”

 

“So you keep saying. Why?”

 

He still had his back to her as Katie watched him down his drink - Firewhisky she assumed - in one go and poured another. How could she explain when she didn’t know how to word her feelings? Being near him wasn’t good for her sanity, made her feel as if she stood on the edge of a high cliff. One wrong step and she would be lost forever, and he would be the person to push her off or pull her back.

 

“Why, Bell? Is some poor sod waiting for you? Someone approved by your friends?”

 

Marcus sounded bitter and accusing, and she couldn’t blame him. Their beginning had been rough, just as their ending. How sad was it that her friends had always been the primary source of their arguments.

 

“Don’t you have someone waiting for you?” She felt sick to her stomach as she recalled the pretty woman she had seen him with, Mrs Flint.

 

“You’re so predictable,” Marcus said with a sigh as he sat down on the sofa. He threw his head back, eyes closed. “Always the presumptions with you, Bell. Must be tiring to be all knowing.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“I think you know.” Marcus shrugged uninterested. When Katie stayed silent, he pointed at the sofa. “Sit down. We need to talk.”

 

Katie bit her lip, unsure of what to do. He couldn’t force her to stay. Then again, she would kick herself later for not clearing the air with him, for not listening to what he had to say. If she wanted to go forward, this chapter of her life needed closure. She shuffled to the other end of the sofa and sat down, dropping her bags and packages in between them like a shield.

 

“That’s better. Have a drink,” Marcus muttered and pushed a glass towards her. “Tell me, who’s the poor bloke?”

 

She wanted to lie, make up a story about a handsome prince charming or even better, tell stories about her new and exciting life with another lover every week. But then again, she had never been a good liar and the latter had never been her style.

 

“There isn’t one,” she told him softly, “Mum is expecting me for supper. What did you mean with the presumptions?”

 

“Elena,” was Marcus’ simple answer and he took another sip, watching her intently.

 

“Missus Flint. I’ve heard, ah, seen.” Katie didn’t look at him and stared at the amber liquid in her glass, afraid that he might see the hurt on her face. “She is beautiful.”

 

“Yes, that she is,” Marcus agreed easily, “And ready to pop in a few weeks, too.”

 

“You must be happy?” Katie asked and sipped from her drink. While she had always hated the foul taste of Firewhisky, she welcomed the burning down her throat to keep her sane. “You have always wanted children.”

 

‘Really, Marcus, seven is a tad too much, don’t you think? We don’t need our own Quidditch team.’

 

Marcus chuckled. “Mum and Dad are over the moon, of course, and Julius is just intolerable these days. You’d think Elena is the first witch ever to have a baby.”

 

“How is Julius?” Katie tried to steer the conversation away from his wife and child to be. Being this near him was hard as it was without talking about his happy family life. Julius was a safe topic. She had always liked Marcus’ older brother. Until the man had told her in uncertain terms not to come near his family again, they had gotten along quite well. Not that she could blame him for his harsh words; she had deserved each one of them.

 

“I can’t blame him, though, it's life changing,” he continued without answering her question. “There are so many things that can go wrong. When it finally arrives, you become responsible for a new life. It’s frightening.”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” Katie mumbled and realised that staying had been a mistake. She didn’t want to hear his musings about becoming a father. What was he trying to do, rip out her heart?

 

“Marcus, I, ah, I need to go.”

 

“Why? Am I boring you?”

 

“It’s just…this…” Katie began uncertainly and ended up sighing in frustration at her inadequacy at transferring her feelings into words. Giving up the hope that she ever would, she stood up and collected her purchases. “I don’t feel so well. Thank you for the drink.”

 

She was nearly by the door when he spoke up again.

 

“If I were the sensitive type, I'd think that you didn’t want to be here with me. But, as you’ve made it clear the last time we spoke, I’m a dumbarse. Someone who needs to be beaten over the head with a flashing sign before I pick up on those kinds of things.”

 

Katie froze. Her heart clenched at the reminder of her cruel accusations and the venom in his voice. “Marcus, I-”

 

“What? Did I get that wrong?” he sneered, “That wouldn’t be the first time either, would it? You know, with me not having two brain cells to rub together and all.”

 

He rose from his seat and stalked over to her. “Or does the sight of my ugly face bother you? It did the last time, remember? Made you sick to your stomach to even look at me.”

 

It was as if he had hit her in the face, repeating every word she had said to him the night they had broken up. “Stop, please. I didn’t…I-”

 

“You what?” he spat as he closed the space between them. “Don’t you have something witty to say? Laugh at my stupidity, maybe? With me being an embarrassing knobhead and all? I’m sure you’ve done that enough times with your friends.”

 

His face twisted in anger, scaring her. She was all too aware of how bad his temper could be, had witnessed numerous time. But, never had he directed it at her. She tried to swallow down a sob as her sadness mixed with another emotion: anger at his unfairness.

 

“Cat got your tongue? You never were lost for words before. Come on, Bell, tell me. Why would you want to go home when we are having a friendly little chat?”

 

“Stop, please,” she whispered.

 

Marcus laughed mirthlessly. “Why? We’re just getting started, why should I stop? I’m just repeating what you told me. Did I get that-”

 

“Because I didn’t mean it!” she yelled out, finally letting go of the façade she had tried so hard to maintain. “I was angry at you for making decisions without me, for not even asking my opinion about moving. I thought you expected me to leave everything behind and follow you like a love-sick puppy. Would it have killed you to talk to me like a normal person for once?”

 

“Normal person…” Marcus took a step back, his anger replaced by frustration as rubbed his face. He stared at her for a long time, watching her cry tears of frustration. Crocodile tears as far as he was concerned.

 

“You thought… I have talked, Bell. You haven't listened to a word I've said, have you?” He shook his head in disbelief, in disappointment. “You're right. Go home, your mum’s waiting with dinner.”

 

With that, he turned his back on her and left the room. Katie wanted to call out to him. Ask, no beg, him to stay and listen, let her clarify. Not for the first time when it came to him, her voice failed her. There was nothing more left to do than collect her bags and leave.

 

As the Floo's green flames engulfed her, she realised this was probably the closure she had waited for. Sadly, it wasn’t what she had imagined it would be.

 

***

 

Tears of grieve and loss streamed down Katie’s cheeks when she stepped out the hearth in her flat. Mixed with the soot, they left behind the blackened evidence of her sorrow. The bags and packages fell from her arms as she crumbled to the floor in a pile of misery and heartache. Sobs wracked through her body as realisation set in that she had lost Marcus for good.

 

The past year, even after the ball, she’d held hope that she'd find a way to fix things with him. Even having met the new Mrs Flint hadn’t quenched the hope on a tentative friendship once the heartache had become bearable. She would have agreed to anything to keep him in her life.

 

“I’m so, so sorry,” she cried in desperation. Of all her regrets in her life, listening to her friends and sending Marcus away was the greatest.

 

Unbeknownst to her, her flat held a visitor who watched her with sadness. As the first rumours of the run in Diagon Alley had reached The Daily Prophet's Head Editor Howard Bell had done everything in his might to prevent the story from making the headlines. He knew his daughter and Marcus well enough to know that they wouldn’t appreciate their private life splattered all over the front page.

 

Like his wife, Howard had been heartbroken when they had learnt of the breakup. Not only had they lost a son, they hadn’t been able to ease their daughter’s self-blame and sadness either. With pain in their hearts, they had watched her turn into a shadow of her former self. And now, just when they’d thought she would be okay again, Katie was back at the start. Again, other than holding her and let her cry in his arms, there was nothing he could do for her.

 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, let it out,” he consoled her softly as he fell to his knees next to her and wrapped his arms around her.

 

“I’ve lost him, Dad. For good this time,” Katie cried in the crook of his neck. “What am I supposed to do now?”

 

Howard wished he had an answer for her. How he wished that a few simple words could put her mind at ease. Unfortunately, no matter what he said to her, she would have to go through this alone.

 

They sat like there for a long time as whispered teary words of consolation until her gut-wrenching sobs finally died down. And when only shaky breaths and hiccups remained, he gently untangled her arms from his neck to have a look at her and wipe the tears from her cheeks.

 

The way she looked up in hope with her big brown eyes, broke his heart. A long time ago, when Katie was just a little girl, she used to look at him in the same way. Back then, it had been with the hope that he would be able to chase away the monsters underneath her bed. Now, though, a simple charm couldn’t bring a smile to her face and crown him the saviour of the day. Merlin, how he wished that he had enough magic to fix her pain, chase her monsters away.

 

“Let’s pack you a bag and you’ll come to stay with us for a few days.” It wasn’t much, but he hoped that a few days of pampering and an always-available shoulder to cry on would help her through the toughest part. Something they should have done last year.

 

Katie frowned at the suggestion; her first instinct was to refuse. What if Marcus came back here to look for her? Would he even know where to find her? She wanted to shake her head ‘no’ when she remembered that he wouldn’t. He had a life now, a life that didn’t include her.

 

“I love to,” she whispered eventually.

 

As Howard helped his daughter up and waited for her to get ready, he hoped that a few days back home would help her get back on her feet. In fact, he vowed to keep her until she was, no matter how long it would take. 


	3. Chapter 3

It was Christmas morning when the owl holding a note with alarming news swooped down on one of the Bell Cottage windowsills. Grandmother Bell, Katie’s namesake, had been admitted to St. Mungo’s earlier in the day with severe chest pains.

 

Without thinking or wallowing further in her misery, Katie followed her panicking parents to the hospital. After two weeks of processing her heartbreak, she was ready enough to venture out the little family cottage. It was just a shame that such an occasion had to prompt her. Nana Kate had always been a prominent fixture in her life, and aside from the guilt for not visiting her regularly these past few months, the idea of losing her terrified her.

 

At least with Marcus, she knew that he was healthy and safe, even if he wasn’t with her. Death, however, was permanent and something she wasn’t sure that she could handle.

 

In the end, it turned out to be a false alarm. Still, ever the cautious ones, the Healers had decided to keep Nan overnight, Christmas or not. Unlike her children, Nan couldn’t have cared less about spending the holiday in a hospital room. Without much fuss, she had ordered her son and daughter-in-law to gather the rest of the family for a celebration in her private room. After strict instructions to collect the presents under her tree, the food in her kitchen, and her fancy clothes, she had sent a spluttering Howard and Sarah away, leaving her alone with her granddaughter.

 

The room was silent as Katie enlarged the small table in the corner to fit all her uncles, aunts, and cousins. She transfigured a straw from Nan’s bedside cupboard into a fully decorated Christmas tree to capture a hint of the holiday spirit in the otherwise sterile looking room.

 

“It’s exquisite, you've done good,” the old woman croaked as she watched the twinkling fairy lights.

 

“Thanks, Nan.” Katie smiled sadly as she, too, stared at the lights. They reminded her of the first Christmas in Marcus’ new flat. Money had been tight the first few months they’d been dating and had forced them to be creative with decorations to save enough money to buy presents for their families. She had transfigured the silliest items to fit their needs that year.

 

“Come, sit with me, dear,” Nan patted on the mattress and scooted to the side.

 

Katie didn’t need to be told twice and quickly settled next to her grandmother and draped her arms over her waist as she cuddled closer. Just like she had done as a little girl.

 

“What’s this I hear about you?” Nan started, never the one to beat around the bush. “You’ve been crying over that Flint boy again? Is that why you haven’t visited me in so long?”

 

“I’m sorry, Nan.” The lump in her throat grew at the mention of Marcus. How stupid was she that the mere mention of him could bring down the walls she had carefully constructed. Perhaps, she wasn’t as ready to face the world as she had thought she was.

 

A faint, miserable whimper escaped her as tried to come up with a lie to reassure her grandmother that she was all right. Before she knew it, though, she found herself crying and warbling as she tried to explain what had happened between Marcus and her.

 

“Shh, it’s alright, love,” Nan cooed as wrinkled, with age deformed fingers stroked Katie’s cheeks in comfort. “You’ll be alright.”

 

“Will it ever stop?” Katie asked as she rubbed her eyes. “The hurt, will it ever stop?”

 

“No.” Nan didn’t need to think about that. Even after all these decades, she could still feel the tug at her own heart. “It’ll get easier, though, I promise. You’ll need to be patient. It took me a few years but eventually, it got better.”

 

Katie smiled sadly, thinking that her grandmother was talking about her grandfather who had passed away a few years ago. “Do you still miss Papa?”

 

Nan chuckled and patted Katie’s cheek. “Of course, I miss that old codger. But he’s not who I’m talking about.”

 

Seeing the confusion on her granddaughter’s face, she chuckled louder and closed her eyes. It didn’t take long to conjure up the images of that very intense boy who had stolen her heart all those years ago. The one who still held the missing piece.

 

When she spoke again, her voice seemed void of the hoarseness of old age and fatigue. She sounded like a young girl almost.

 

“Have I ever told you about my parents?” When she felt Katie shake her head against her shoulder, she continued. “They were devout Catholics, God-fearing and hard-working farmers, they were. Simple people, some would say. To them, magic was something out of fairy tales and even then, they saw it as an instrument of the devil. You can imagine their wariness when little accidents started to happen around me when I was younger. They thought I was possessed even and made me stay with the nuns for a few weeks.”

 

“Nan, what-” Katie started, unsure what this had to do with anything. However, the older woman shushed her.

 

“When Headmaster Dippet arrived at our door the first time, my father chased after him with a pitchfork. You should have seen it; it was hilarious. Anyway, Dippet didn’t give up and eventually, my parents agreed to speak with him. With holy water and the bible in their hands just in case, of course.”

 

Nan paused a moment to catch her breath. “Now, Dippet wasn’t anything like Professor Dumbledore. He was blunt, impatient, and clearly out of place on our farm. In less than an hour time, he had not only told my parents my acceptance to Hogwarts, but about magic and how real it was as well. But I think, Mum and Dad stopped listening to him when he told them about me being a witch. Mum nearly had a stroke at hearing that.”

 

She giggled like a young girl at the memory. “It took them weeks to decide if they’d allow me to go. Mum wanted to send me to the nuns again, she did. In the end, my endless pestering and increase of 'accidents' finally swayed them. Dad drove me to London two days before the start of the school year. He went shopping with me in Diagon Alley, and when the time came for me to board the train, he dumped me on the station and ran out like a bat out of hell. And that was when I first met him.”

 

When her grandmother fell silent, Katie nudged her to continue. As far as she knew, Papa Reggie had been a Muggle, very curious about magic, but a Muggle nonetheless. “Who, Nan?”

 

 “William,” she answered with a longing sigh. “He was two years older, a Ravenclaw. When he saw me struggle with my trunk, he helped me to get it on the train. He even sat with me during the ride to explain everything that was new to me. He was the very first friend I made.”

 

“That was sweet of him,” Katie mumbled, still unsure what a young girl’s fancy had to do with her.

 

“Yes, he was like that. When I got sorted into Ravenclaw, I was so happy because I already had a friend there. And he was happy for me, never made me feel like a silly little girl. Over the years, I made a few friends, but William always remained my best friend. And then his final year came along.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“Water first, please.”

 

After downing the glass of water Katie had poured for her, Nan continued. Her eyes closed and her brows furrowed. “I realised that I was in love.”

 

“With William?” Katie asked after she crawled next to her grandmother again.

 

Nan features smoothened, and a broad grin spread across her face. “Yes. I tried to rationalise it, of course. I told myself that the butterflies in my belly were just happiness to see him, my friend, again after a long summer. When that didn’t help, I decided to keep my distance. I had run out of explanations for my red cheeks and stammering each time he was close. So, I took the easy way out.”

 

“You must have confused him,” Katie said sniggering.

 

It was what she had done after reacquainting with Marcus after she had finished school. Surprisingly, the memory of their start didn't hurt as much as she would have expected. Maybe, there was still hope for her.

 

“Oh, yes. Confused, annoyed and then infuriated. William didn't understand what he had done wrong for me to keep my distance from him like that. He kept buggering my two other friends, Daisy and Alice, for answers I wasn’t willing to give. Of course, being the true friends they were, they managed to evade his probing.”

 

Katie looked up in surprise at the venom in her grandmother’s voice at the mention of her friends. She couldn’t recall a time she had heard that before.

 

“Luckily, unfortunately, depends on how you look at it, William caught up with me at Halloween. With everyone at the feast, I'd thought it would be a safe time to study in the library to get a head start for my O.W.L.’s. In hindsight, it was very naïve of me to think that I’d be alone. I never heard him approach me, not until he spelt me to my chair and pinned my arms to the table.”

 

Katie gasped, not only for what this William person had done to her grandmother but because it reminded her of what Marcus had done to her. After weeks of alternating between flirting with him and giving him the cold shoulder, he had snuck up on her in the Leakey’s toilets and had spelt the doors shut. He had refused to let her out until she told him what had got her knickers in knots, as he had charmingly put it. Hardly romantic, but their first kiss had happened over a leaking loo in the Leaky. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

 

“Between his scolding for ignoring him and my stammering, it took me nearly an hour to confess why I had been ignoring him,” Nan continued. Her eyes glazed over for a moment as memories of that night replayed in her mind.

 

“It took him a few seconds to say something after I finished my warbling. You got that from me, by the way, sorry for that. Anyway, I told him, and he fell silent. It was by far the longest five seconds of my life. Yes, I’ve counted them. When he finally opened his mouth again, he told me that he felt the same, since before the summer. He hadn’t said anything because he’d thought it would ruin our friendship. How stupid were we, eh?”

 

She giggled again before she let out another longing sigh. “So stupid.”

 

The two women fell silent, both deep in thought. The increasing sounds from the corridors filtered through the door; the visiting hours had started. Finally, someone's loud laugh broke their reveries.

 

“What happened to him?” Katie asked as she snuggled closer. She wasn’t sure if it was to comfort her grandmother or seek support herself.

 

“My friends happened,” Nan bit out. Her lips pressed into a grim line at the mere thought of the girls she used to call her friends. Then her shoulders slumped when she realised that she was fooling herself again. “I happened.”

 

A pang of recognition shot through Katie. Hadn’t she been quick to blame her friends for failed relationship with Marcus? In the end, not matter which way she turned the situation, their breakup was mostly on her.

 

“We dated throughout the year and the next. He even came to visit me on my parent’s farm a few times during the summers. Mind you, your Great-Uncle Frank, the monk one, supervised those visits. You can imagine the fun. When I had to go back to Hogwarts, William would visit me in Hogsmeade during the weekends. Oh, and the letters, you should have seen the letters. They could have easily filled the library. He had a way with words…”

 

Nan laughed at the memories and after another glass of water, she continued. “It wasn’t easy, but we made it work. And then, just a week before my eighteenth birthday, he proposed. It wasn’t romantic or anything, he just shoved a tiny box in my hands over a cup of tea at Madam Puddifoot’s and told me to think about it. Didn’t take me long to say yes.”

 

“But you never got that far?” Katie asked in a small voice. She realised that she wasn’t ready to hear about the sad part that was sure to follow.

 

“No, it didn’t. You see, he was from a traditional Pureblood family; they had made it into the Pureblood Directory and all. As strong as my family held onto their religious beliefs, so strongly his family held onto theirs. Their son marrying a Muggleborn didn’t sit well with them.”

 

“They drove you apart?”

 

Nan chuckled and shook her head. “You’d think that, but no, not really. They went on a search for a more suitable bride and found one. But William refused to sign the marriage contract. They couldn’t force an adult man into a marriage he didn’t want. By then, he had just a few years left of his Healers training and had his own money, so they couldn’t use that to blackmail him.”

 

Katie poured another glass of water when Nan held her glass out. “If it wasn’t his family, what drove you apart, then?”

 

Nan stared at the bathroom door for a long time before she answered. “On the last day of school, I was supposed to stay behind in Hogsmeade and meet him at The Three Broomsticks. We were going to elope, you see, have a quick Ministry wedding, and live happily ever after. Suffice it to stay; I boarded the train.”

 

When Katie wanted to interfere, she held her hand up. “Before you ask why, you need to know that Daisy and Alice were Purebloods as well. Their families and William’s ran in the same circles. No matter how hard they’d tried to convince of how open-minded they were, they weren’t in the end.”

 

She took a deep breath to calm her anger. “They were the only ones who knew about our plans. From the moment I told them, they changed. It started small, a little light-hearted jab here and there about William. Then the serious talks began, about his flaws, the problems with mixed blood marriage, how much I wouldn’t fit into his family. Then right before my N.E.W.T.’s, they planted the seed of doubt about William and the bride his family had chosen for him. They told me about how people had seen them strolling through Diagon Alley, arm in arm. The girls rubbed a newspaper clipping in my face about some ball William and the girl had attended together. But the final nail in the coffin was the photograph that had mysteriously appeared on my pillow one night after dinner. It showed William and the girl in a rather, ah, intimate embrace, or so I thought.”

 

“Bastard!” Katie exclaimed, furious with this William person on behalf of her grandmother. “How dare he?”

 

“Easy there, love,” Nan laughed. “Haven’t you listened to what I’ve just told you?”

 

“Of course, I have,” Katie retorted. “He had a girl on the side. He was a pig, probably still is.”

 

Nan clucked her tongue and patted Katie’s hand. “No, he had not and was not. My friends fed me lies, charmed the photograph even and I fell for it.”

 

“Oh. So, you confronted William then?”

 

“No, we're a stubborn lot, love. By the time the train arrived at King’s Cross, he was already waiting for me there, worried out his mind because I hadn’t shown up. But, unfortunately for him, I had been stewing for hours in my anger. My friends had done their best to ensure that. As soon as I laid eyes on him, I chewed him out. I called him every name in the book, and then some, without giving him a chance to say anything. And just before I left to meet Father outside, I returned the ring, all the letters he had written me and hit him in the face with the photograph.”

 

She turned her gaze to the Christmas tree, lost in thought as she watched the twinkling lights. After all these years, the belief that she had been an utter heel to him had only grown stronger. If only she could turn back time.

 

“He never tried to contact you to talk it over?” Katie pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, expecting her grandmother to shed a tear or two, but she swatted it away with a pointed look.

 

“Oh, he did. He wrote me every day for months. He came up to the farm several times, camped out for days on end across the road because my dear father chased him away each time he came too close to the farm. And then, after a few months, he stopped writing and coming by.”

 

“Do you know why?”

 

Nan smiled sadly. “Because I met Reggie. He worked for my father on the lands. A nice bloke, he was. Normal, Muggle, and in every way different to William. So, when he nervously asked me to go dancing with him one day, I said yes. We got married four months later. I'd finished school, had a nice boring job at the Ministry, and he would take over the farm from my dad, so why wait?”

 

Katie narrowed her eyes as she tried to recall when her eldest aunt had been born. No, the numbers didn’t add up. “Why so soon?”

 

“The afternoon your grandfather asked me to go dancing, I received an owl from Daisy telling me that William got engaged and was set to marry at Christmas to the girl his family had chosen. I forget her name,” she lied. She knew all about Emma Rosier, of course; a sweet and beautiful woman, no matter how much she wanted it to be otherwise.

 

“I don’t regret saying yes, but I am sorry saying it for the wrong reasons, I guess. I was so angry at William for marrying someone other than me, so I did the same.”

 

Considering what her grandmother had told her thus far, Katie carefully asked, “He hadn’t, had he?”

 

“No, not then. He did marry her two years later, though.”

 

“Have you ever spoken to him after that?”

 

“Once, after Alice confessed that she and Daisy had concocted it all. I’ve never felt more stupid when she told me that Daisy had fancied William for years and how they had gone out of their way to break us up. So, I visited William a week before his wedding. Mind you, I was already seven months pregnant with your Auntie Grace. The conversation didn’t go all too well, as you can imagine. He listened to me, thanked me for apologising and then kindly, but urgently asked me to stay away from him from then on. I cried in your grandfather’s arms for days after that. Must have been the hormones, I’m usually not a crier,” she trailed off, shrugging to make light of the situation.

 

“Papa knew? Or did you lie?” Katie felt sorry for grandfather for unknowingly playing second fiddle to another man.

 

Nan looked up sharply; ready to scold Katie for saying something like that. “Don’t be silly, girl. I’ve never kept secrets from your grandfather. I told him all about William on our first date and a few after as well. He was a very patient man about that. He was the one who suggested for me to go and see him, to have a peace of mind if anything.”

 

“Oh.” Katie felt like a scolded five-year-old as she stared down at her hands. She had assumed again, as Marcus used to say.

 

“Katherine Bell, look at me,” Nan ordered. When Katie did so, she grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. “Do you know why I’m telling you all this?”

 

“I-I, uhm, no.”

 

“The regret of acting like a fool and the losing the one you love because of it never leaves you. You’ll always have that ‘what if’ question invading your heart and mind at the most inopportune moments. The pain will never truly go away, but over time, once your mind takes over, it’ll come more manageable. The ugly memories disappear and only the fondest remain. For me, first Reggie and then my children helped me.”

 

Katie wiped away the tears from her eyes before they could fall. Her grandmother’s tale wasn’t what she had wanted to hear. It wasn’t the reassurance that she needed that everything would be all right in the end, preferably with Marcus.

 

“What are you saying, Nan? Do you want me to go out and marry the first bloke I run into?”

 

“You could do that,” Nan conceded. “Or, you could go and talk to your Marcus first. Do the thing I didn’t do until it was too late.”

 

“He isn’t mine anymore,” Katie whispered. She could feel those damned sobs build up again.

 

“Have you asked him, listened to what he had to say? I mean, really listen. I know you, love. You're too much like me.”

 

“I’ve tried, but he got so angry with me,” Katie cried in frustration.

 

“Can you blame him? I’ve heard you’ve said pretty horrible things before you kicked him out,” Nan retorted. She hated to see Katie like this, but sometimes the girl needed a firm push in the right direction.

 

Katie groaned and threw her hands up in the air. “I didn’t mean any of it.”

 

“He thinks you did. Isn’t that why he left?”

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore; he already found someone else. Apparently, I’m easy to replace. That ought to be telling.”

 

“How do you know? Did he tell you that?” Nan wanted to give her good shake, wondering where her smart granddaughter had run off to last year and whom this barmy chit was she had left behind. A headshake in denial was the answer to her question. It was a pity that she didn’t have more time, she would have given Katie a stern talking otherwise. However, as it was, their talk was over.

 

“What time is it, love?”

 

“What?” Katie frowned in confusion.

 

“Time?”

 

Katie glanced at her watch. “It’s nearly noon, why?”

 

A sly grin crept up Nan’s face as she leant back into her pillows. “Can you get me my embroidery? It’s in my purse on the sill. I want to get some work done before all hell breaks loose.”

 

Katie climbed out of bed to get what she was asked, still confused about the abrupt change of subject while in the middle of pouring her heart out. In hindsight, she should have known that something wasn’t right when she found the buzzing piece of cloth. Her grandmother hated embroidery, and she should have known better than to touch it.

 

Unfortunately, she only thought about that when she felt the first tug at her navel and Nan disappeared out of sight.


	4. Chapter 4

Nan Kate let out a cackle and clapped her hands when Katie popped out of sight. The first part of the plan had gone as expected. Now it was up to her to fulfil the second part; make up with her estranged beau.

 

The door to the adjacent bathroom opened and a white-haired man stuck his head out. “Is she gone?”

 

“Yeah, you can come out now.” Nan Kate sighed and grabbed her wand from under her pillow to cast a silencing spell and charmed the door shut. Then she reached behind her for a pillow and threw it in full force at the man, hitting him square in the chest.

 

“Oi, you wench! Why did you do that for?”

 

“You said the potion would be harmless, you ancient git. I thought I was going to die,” Kate bellowed.

 

The man merely rolled his eyes at her dramatics and pulled up a chair next to the bed. “Do you want a Sonorus to go with that whine? I don’t think they’ve heard you in the canteen. Scream it out a little louder, and you’ll undoubtedly cost me my licence.”

 

Kate burst out in laughter; Some things never changed. “What was that shite, anyway?” she asked as she rubbed her chest.

 

The man shrugged and fiddled with the fringe of the blanket covering her legs. “Heartbreak in a bottle, I’ve created it during my moodier days.”

 

“Oh, Will.” Kate grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry.”

 

“S’alright, it’s in the past now.” Will shrugged and after a moment of silence asked, “You still miss him then?”

 

Kate couldn’t help but laugh again and flicked his nose. “What’s that, old man? Are you jealous? Of course, I miss Reggie. He was my husband for more than fifty years. Don’t you miss Emma?”

 

“Of course, I do,” Will cried in indignation, shocked that Kate would suggest otherwise. “Emma was a good wife and a loving mother.”

 

“There you go then.” She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. “How long do you reckon they worked on their plan to get us together again?”

 

“With those two, who knows?” Will smiled sadly, recalling how his sick wife had often disappeared for hours on end without letting anyone know where she had gone in those final months of her life. To visit dying Reggie Bell in a Muggle hospital, he knew now.

 

Kate nodded and leant back against the headboard. It was their turn to pass on the gift their late spouses had given them. She could only hope that Marcus and Katie didn’t pass on their second chance. “Where does the Portkey go, anyway?”

 

“If all went well, she should be at the cottage in Cardiff.” William Flint, a respected Healer within his field of rare magical diseases, averted his eyes and blushed like a teenage boy as he waited for her reaction.

 

“You’ve kept it,” Kate stated in awe. At one time, the small house with the thatched roof was supposed to become their home. That was before she had ruined everything and squandered her first chance to become Mrs Flint. “Why?”

 

William shrugged, not wanting to discuss how he had gone back at least once a year to reminisce and dream of what could have been. “Because I’m an idiot, a masochist, I don’t know. I gave it to Marcus for his birthday last year. I thought it would be fitting. He had plans for your girl, you know.”

 

“Do you think they’ll work it out this time?” Kate wanted to press further about the cottage but knew better for now. Some things never changed, indeed.

 

Will huffed and crossed his arms, unimpressed by their grandchildren. “They better. We’ve waited more than fifty years to have this wedding; I’m not postponing it another fifty.”

 

Kate laughed only to hide her own eager. He was right after all; they had waited long enough. “That boy of yours has a real temper on him. You’ll think he’ll wait long enough without going off at her so she can say something?”

 

“And your girl hasn’t?” Will shot back, offended. “She’s all teary eyed now, but I happen to know that she puts up a good fight. She got that from you, you know.”

 

Unlike Kate and her husband, he and Emma hadn’t attempted to repopulate the earth. He had only one son and two grandsons, and he would not stand for anyone badmouthing them, even Kate. He gladly ignored the fact that her statement held a trace of truth in it. What could he say; it was the Rosier side of the family that occasionally popped out.

 

“Keep your knickers on, old man.” Kate held up her hands. “You know what I mean. They’re hurting so much. Who says they’re going to listen without driving each other up the walls? The last time turned out to be a disaster.”

 

“Last time, they didn’t have two meddlesome grandparents sticking their noses in their business.” He glanced at his watch. “I ought to go. Your brood should be here any minute now.”

 

Kate grabbed his hand before he could stand up. It was bound to happen at some time and what better moment than now. “Why don’t you stay? I’d like for you to meet them.”

 

***

 

A cutting cold wind was the first thing Katie noticed when her stomach had finally settled down, and she dared to open her eyes. Slightly panicked, she twirled around to find out where she was and came up with…nothing. She didn’t recognise her surroundings at all. As far as her eyes reached, there was nothing but dark grey skies and green grass fields. In the distance, she could hear the roaring sea over the cutting hard wind and the deep rumble of thunder.

 

Her simple trousers and a jumper did nothing to keep her warm. She wrapped her arms around herself to keep the cold out and figure out a plan to get back to London without her wand. Nan was going to pay for this. Who tricked someone with a Portkey? Really, she was becoming barmier with each passing day.

 

Nevertheless, that had to wait until she got home. Katie studied her surroundings again, more careful this time and found what she had been looking for when her eye fell on a small cottage with a smoking chimney in the distance. Normally, she would have thought twice about asking strangers for help, but the loud rumble of thunder didn’t give her much choice to overthink her possibilities.

 

As icy rain began pelting down on her, she made her way towards the house. Hopefully, they’d allow her to use a phone and tell her where she was. Leanne had a telephone and Christmas or not, she would come and get her.

 

She ran her across the fields until she reached the paved path leading up to the house. By the time she stood at the broken down fence in the pouring rain, she was sodden right down to her underwear and covered in mud and grass and couldn’t stop shivering. She tried to come up with a plausible excuse to give to the occupant before she knocked on the door.

 

Looking around to come up with something, she noticed thorny weeds had overgrown the large garden and moss grew on the thatched roof. Although she doubted that she had made the right choice to ask here for help, Katie still made her way along the paved path to the front door. Anything was better than standing in the rain.

 

Her limbs tingled with nervous energy as she stood in front of the door. There wasn’t a bell or a knocker to announce her arrival. The once red paint had chipped in places, exposing the dark wood underneath. Before she could change her mind, she knocked loudly. After a seemingly long time, the scraping of a chair inside reached her ears. Good, someone was home.

 

“Hi, I’m Katie, and I’m lost. Could I possibly use your telephone?” she quietly practised as she smoothed down her long brown hair to look a tad representable. “How do you call this place? No, no, uhm, I forgot, what’s this area called again? Yes, much better.”

 

The door swung open, a gush of warm air washed over her, and Katie found that she had lost the ability to speak when she recognised who stood in the opening.

 

“Fuck, Bell. You’re soaking wet.”

 

***

 

Katie blew into her hot mug of tea she held onto for dear life. Despite the dry, warm clothes, she was still cold to the bone and couldn’t help the tremble of her hands. At least, that’s what she told herself. It had absolute nothing to do with Marcus, who was rummaging at the counter behind her. Other than his offer for dry clothes and tea, he hadn’t said a word to her, and she was too stunned to do anything other than hold her mug. This had to be a coincidence or a very cruel joke.

 

He crossed to the kitchen to one of the cupboards. Quickly, Katie dropped her eyes to her tea. Still, after a few seconds, she dared to glance at him from underneath her lashes. He wore a pair of trousers that hung low on his hips, his feet bare, and hair rumpled. The fabric of his worn out shirt stretched over his back as he reached for something.

 

She remembered that shirt; she had given it to him on their first Christmas together. She averted her eyes when a lump formed in her throat. He had kept it, she didn’t know what it meant, but he had kept it.

 

“What are you doing here, Bell?” he asked as he plopped down in a chair on the other side of the kitchen table, startling her.

 

His rough voice made her shiver, and she tried to make herself as small as possible. His scent, woven into the clothes she wore, invaded her nostrils as she cowered in her chair, making her dizzy with the sense of loss and need. Perhaps, it would have been smarter to ask him to dry her own clothes, instead of agreeing to wear his.

 

“Hi.” Her mouth dried up at her stupid answer. She could only imagine the ugly grimace on her face that was supposed to resemble a smile.

 

His grey eyes stared at her impassively where in the past he would have grinned at her clumsy answer.

 

“What do you want, Bell? How did you know where to find me?”

 

She swallowed and took note of the tight line of his stubbled jaw. Would he believe her when she told him that somehow her grandmother had forced her here?

 

“I had, ah, an accident with a Portkey. I didn’t know you lived here,” she answered him eventually. “I’m not even sure where 'here' is.”

 

“A Portkey? That’s convenient,” he snapped. He wanted to say more, but instead, he rubbed his face and took a deep breath. “You should go home.”

 

Katie studied her steaming tea, her mind finally working more properly than it had done in months. She was here, he was here, and by the looks of it, they were alone. If she had ever hoped for a chance to have a talk with him again, this was it. Especially with her grandmother’s story still fresh in mind.

 

“Can we talk?” she asked softly.

 

“We tried that two weeks ago. You fucked that up.”

 

She drew a steadying breath and glanced down at the table. She wasn’t going to let him goad her, not this time. When she was sure that she could keep calm, she met his gaze. “Please?”

 

He rapped his fingers on the table in impatience. “Why?”

 

Her throat thickened with emotion. She hadn’t expected him to make this easy on her. The idea that he might send her away without even giving her a chance to have her say had desperation building inside her. “Five minutes, then I’ll be on my way.”

 

He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, letting out a world-weary sigh that would have made her tease him at any other time.

 

“Five minutes,” he relented, “then I’m tossing you out on your arse.”

 

She managed to smile this time. “Thank you.”

 

He lowered his head and stared at her, frowning at what he seemed to see. Whereas Katie fought hard against herself not to break down and beg for his forgiveness, Marcus let out a harsh breath that made her think he was trying to maintain control. His expression tightened, and he cocked his head in annoyance.

 

“You wanted to talk, so talk,” he said and summoned a bottle of Ogden’s and a glass into his hands.

 

“Where is your, uhm, where is Elena?”

 

Marcus grimaced and shook his head, scoffing. “She’s with Julius, at my parent’s house. Where I need to be in less than an hour.”

 

“Right.” Katie cleared her throat, her knuckles white with the force in which she held on to her mug. The time limit was loud and clear.

 

“Just tell me what you want already.”

 

“I-” Her voice cracked, and she had to clear her throat again before she could go on. “I wanted to apologise for how things have ended between us.”

 

He stared long and hard at her before he let out a humourless laugh. “Apology accepted. You can go now.”

 

“No, I wasn’t done yet.” She let out a quivering breath. “I’ve said things to you that I shouldn’t have. Things I didn’t mean and if could take them back, I would. But I was so angry with you when I said them.”

 

“You were angry with me? For what? Trying to build a future for us. Yeah, that was utterly stupid of me. Then again, I’m like-”

 

Katie held up her hand to cut him off. This is where she had messed up, called him names the first time, and lost her patience the last time. She wouldn’t muck it up today.

 

“Don’t say it, don’t throw it back in my face. I’m so sorry for saying those things. I didn’t mean any of it. You know I didn’t. I got scared, got drunk, and listened too much to my friends.”

 

There was a brief moment of silence; she could see him get angrier with each passing second.

 

“Your friends have always been shits, and you’re a terrible drunk, Bell, I know all that,” he said deceptively even. “But being with me scared you? That’s a new one. Must be my ugly-”

 

“If you’d let me finish, I’ll explain,” she snapped.

 

“Explain? You’ve tossed me out and told me never to come back again. Did you know I did, though, that I tried to return a week later? I thought I'd overreacted and wanted to talk to you. But I couldn’t, could I? No, because you closed the damn Floo and changed the fucking wards! Explain that to me.”

 

_'Deep breaths.'_

 

“I was angry that you didn’t tell me when you first got the news; I had to find out from Adrian. Do you remember how you just laughed it off as if it was nothing to worry about when I finally said something? You didn’t want to talk to me about it just yet because you hadn’t signed anything yet. Then I got pissed that you’d think that I’d go with you without even discussing it and leave my life here behind. But looking back, those had been the excuses I told myself. You know what really scared me? You kept disappearing without even telling me where you went. Each time I asked you, you’d only say that you were working on the future, and all I could think was that you were making plans to leave without me. That scared me the most, the idea of losing you, certainly not the idea of being with you.”

 

Katie hung her head, afraid to see the look of disbelief on his face. “I’m sorry, Marcus. I’m sorry for saying those things and sending you away. I’m sorry for giving up on talking to you and making you listen to me like I used to. I’m not sorry for getting scared and lashing out, though, you stopped talking to me too.”

 

“You locked me out,” he answered her.

 

This time, she did look up, smiling wryly. “Yeah, I keyed you out the wards the minute you left to piss you off and forgot about it until you mentioned it the last time. I’ve fixed that now... The Floo got disconnected a day after you left. I guess I forgot to pay that month’s fees. I didn't notice until Dad mentioned it weeks later.”

 

She wanted to tell him that he could have knocked on the door, or written her if he'd really wanted to see her and making it right again between them. Instead, she put her mug on the table and got up, still not looking at him.

 

“Thank you for listening. If I could use your Floo, I need to get back home. I’m sure you want to get back to your w-wife.”

 

“Sit down, Bell,” he replied sharply. “You had your chance to speak; now it’s my turn.”

 

Her heart thundered as she sat back down, unsure if she was ready to hear what he had to say. He had moved on already while she was still stuck. Did it matter that he had meant well last year? It would only gut her further to learn what she had tossed away.

 

Marcus filled her empty mug to the rim with whisky before he did the same with his glass. In one go, he downed it down, his face twisting in distaste as the liquid burnt its way down his throat. Katie followed his example, needing all the courage she could get her hands on to prepare what he had to say to her.

 

The Firewhisky burnt and churned in her stomach as she listened to him talk about how he had wanted to make sure that she could come along to Spain before he told her anything. Faintly, she heard him say how he would have turned the offer down if he couldn’t have brought her along and how mad he had been with Pucey for spilling the beans on him. She brought her mug to her lips for the last drop when he told her about the international Portkeys the club had bought for her as a part of his deal so she could travel between Britain and Spain to her own liking. She knew all of that already but hearing it from him made her feel more terrible than before.

 

“…trying to fix it up.”

 

Katie looked up, blinking in confusion and wondering if she had heard him right. “What did you say?”

 

“When you said that I used to disappear so often, I was here trying to make something of it. Grandfather gave me this house. Had brought him bad luck he said and gave it to me when I told him I wanted to… Anyway, I’d reckoned it'd be nice to have our own home for when we’d return for visits. I wanted to surprise you. I guess that I should have known that you don’t like surprises.”

 

“Marcus, I…” She didn’t know what to say, just stared at him in sadness.

 

He stared back. His earlier anger had left his features. Only a frown remained as he studied the bottle in his hands and peeled off the label. Katie wanted to reach out and hold his hand, tell him again how sorry she was and make it up to him. She wanted to tell that she would have loved the surprised, would have loved to live here with him. For a long time, the rain pelting hard against the windows was the only sound, though.

 

“For what it’s worth, I miss you.” She wanted him to know that at least. “I wish I could change what happened between us, I really do. I still love you so much.”

 

“Bell, don’t…” He shook his head without looking at her. “Just don’t.”

 

Katie nodded as she tried to keep her tears at bay. She had to remind herself that he had moved on. He had a family to join. “Maybe, one day, we can be friends again?”

 

This time, he did look up as he put the bottle on the table with a loud bang, scowling. “Is that what you want?”

 

‘No!’ she wanted to scream, but if that were what he had to offer, she would take it. She would even be happy for him. So, she whispered a soft yes.

 

“I can’t be friends with you, Katie. I don’t want to.” He leant back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. “You don’t want that either.”

 

“I do if that’s the way to keep you in my life. Look, I don’t want to come in between you and Elena. But if-”

 

“For fuck’s sake, love.” He briefly paused when she looked up with hope-filled eyes at his slip of the tongue. But he was having none of that, not now. He stalked over to her and grabbed her by the arm and ignored her protests when he pulled her along to the sparsely decorated living room. They stopped in front of the fireplace where he grabbed a frame from the mantle and shoved in her hands.

 

“The new Missus Flint,” he growled.

 

Katie, who had initially thought he was kicking her out, studied the picture. The sad frown she wore slowly morphed into stunned surprise, then into a relieved smile, a small one, but still a smile. “Oh, that’s…”

 

“Stupid bint,” Marcus muttered, “Stop assuming things, that’s what got us here.”

 

“I’m sorry-”

 

“Blood hell, Bell, stop saying you’re fucking sorry! It doesn’t change anything.” He wanted to rip his hair out in frustration. “I get it, you fucked up.”

 

Calmly, Katie put the frame with Julius and Elena’ wedding picture back on the mantle and took a few steps back. Anger boiled inside. The same anger that had ruined everything between them. She knew that she should calm down, take a handful of Floo-powder, and leave now that she had explained herself and her actions. However, Marcus blaming all of this mess solely on her did not sit well with her.

 

Her hands found their way to her hips and she lifted her chin high in the air as her lips curled up in contempt. “You’re right,” she started in an even voice, “I’ve fucked up. I fucked up because of you, Flint. Come to think of it; this mess is your fault, not mine. So, I won’t apologise anymore. It's time you did some grovelling as well.”

 

Marcus raised his brows in disbelief and folded his arms. “Me? What have I done to apologise for?”

 

She took a few steps closer again until they stood nose to nose and jabbed her finger into his chest with each word she spoke. “You ought to be sorry for not involving me in your plans, for not telling me sooner. ‘For us’ my arse, you knobhead. You wanted me to say yes to whatever you came up with. You ought to apologise for making me worry and then laughing at me when I wanted to talk to you about it. You made me cry when you know how much I hate to cry. And mostly, you need to apologise for not loving me enough put in a bit more effort into talking to me after you left that night. Is that enough reason?”

 

Marcus leant forward, making their noses touch. “Not loving you enough, no effort? I haven’t seen any letters from you, have I?”

 

He grinned smugly at her, sure that he had her there. Hadn’t he? The unimpressed look on her face made him doubt himself.

 

Katie cocked her chin high in the air again and donned the same smug grin. Finally, after more than a year, the frail young woman had made way for the old Katie, the one who refused to put up with Marcus’ big head.

 

“Don’t talk shite out of your mouth, Flint, your pasty arse might get jealous. You see, unlike you, I did try to contact you. Plenty of times, actually. I swallowed down my pride and begged, yes begged, your family and friends to help reach out to you. They politely told me to sod off.”

 

Marcus shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. “No, they would have told me if you had.”

 

However, he realised that he had ordered his family and friends not to talk to him about her. He hadn’t wanted to know how about her happy life without him. Hadn’t Julius mentioned titbits about her now and then, which he had shut down immediately? Perhaps, Katie had a point on this one.

 

“I asked them not to,” he eventually conceded after a few minutes of silence. “I didn’t want to hear…after what you’d said. You’d said I made you miserable…” he trailed off, shrugging as he averted his eyes.

 

“Oh, Marcus,” Katie sighed, “What made me miserable was you shutting me out. After you had left that night, all I wanted to do was apologise for what I said. I was so angry I lashed out, said things so you’d be just as hurt as I was. I never intended it to go this far. I love you, you git. Have since you spilt your drink on me.”

 

She tried hard not to show her disappointment when he didn’t jump up and return the sentiment, anything. Instead, he kept staring at the floor, arms folded and his thick brows knitted together in a frown. He clearly didn’t believe her.

 

“What a pair we make, eh?”

 

Somewhere in the house, a clock chimed two o’clock; Katie took that as her cue to leave. She said what she had wanted to say. It was now up to him to make up his mind. “I should leave, your parents must be waiting for you.”

 

He looked up, still frowning, and pointed at the small tin on the mantle. “You can use the Floo.”

 

Katie nodded, biting her lip to prevent herself from screaming out in frustration. She had hoped that he would ask her to say so they could talk some more. Quickly, before the tears stinging her eyes spilt over, she turned her back on him. With a shaky hand, she grabbed a handful of Floo-powder and tossed in the hearth. Just as she stepped into the emerald flames, Marcus spoke up.

 

“We can try to be friends if that’s what you want.”

 

She shook her head wanting to say no and stepped into the flames. Right before the flames engulfed her and fast moving images replaced the man she had forfeited her heart to, she answered him, “Yeah, we could be friends.”

 

If this were all he had to offer her, she would gladly take it, even if it meant that having him as her friend would be harder than not having him in her life at all. Perhaps, deep down, she believed that she deserved this. It was her punishment for tossing away the best thing that had ever happened to her.

 

Marcus stared at the dying flames for a long time, deep in thought. Only an unusually loud thunder broke his reveries.

 

“I still love you more, Bell,” he murmured.


	5. Chapter 5

The gloomy Christmas days had come and gone and the New Year started with loud bangs and copious amounts of liquor for Marcus. And now, still hung over of his lone New Year’s celebration, he tried to clear his head. The biting cold helped tremendously to help chase away the fog.

 

 

Sitting on an upturned flowerpot, he watched the little get-together inside from the balcony. Between his knees, a bottle of beer loosely dangled from his fingertips. A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as watched his rosy-cheeked grandfather whisper something in the older Mrs Bell's ear, making the old girl laugh aloud. He could only imagine how she sounded; with her head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut as she grabbed for her belly, shaking with mirth, she was a mirror image of Katie.

 

 

"Or Katie is a mirror image of her," he mused as he leant his head back at the glass partition of the balcony. Bright stars twinkled high above, reminding of the glint in her eyes whenever he used to make her laugh like the old bird inside.

 

 

A shuddered breath escaped him. He watched the white puffs linger into the night before they disintegrated into nothingness as he brought the bottle to his lips for another swig. He felt horrible and adding to that; he felt horrible for feeling that way. He was happy for his grandfather. The old codger had waited years and years for this moment; something Marcus was sure that he wouldn't have been able to pull off if it had been him.

 

 

His smile grew into a grin as he imagined how Katie had probably gushed about it all. He could practically see her clapping her hands and declare how romantic it was how those two had reconnected after so many years.

 

 

Equally fast as it had manifested, his grin faltered again. The whole night just felt as if it revolved around the wrong Bell and Flint; he couldn't shake off the feeling of how erroneous this all felt. Katie's eye-opening words on Christmas Day still rang in his ears. For more than a year, he had been eager to blame her for their breakup. He knew now that they'd been equally responsible.

 

 

"No use crying over spilt milk," he mumbled, and he took another swig, his eyes cast up to the night sky. The lingering scent of the fireworks from the night before tickled his nose, a reminder that a new year had come again. New possibilities and chances, he only had to reach out and take hold of one. But he didn't think he would, at least not this year. Establishing the career he had worked so hard for had his priority, and after that, maybe the cottage. Everything else had to wait.

 

 

"Marcus?"

 

 

Perhaps, not everything.

 

 

He didn't immediately acknowledge her. Instead, he closed his eyes in the silent lament of his fate. Of course, he couldn't escape his newest friend, no matter how much he wanted to. He should have known that on a night like tonight it would be an impossibility. When she called to him again, more hesitant this time, he dropped his chin and offered her a tight-lipped smile. As usual, she looked gorgeous dressed in a simple black frock and her hair up in a sloppy bun. Strands of her dark hair that had escaped swayed this way and that in the soft wind. She was nervous; he could tell by the way that she wrung her hands. He might as well put the whole friendship thing into action and make it easier for her, he reckoned. After all, they were going to become family in a weird, twisted sort of way.

 

 

"You needed some fresh air as well?"

 

 

Katie nodded. When she realised that he was too busy studying his beer bottle, she muttered a quiet 'yeah'. Like him, she was adamant to give the friends thing a try. At least, she had been for three whole days and then had forgone on the idea; it would only be unnecessary torture, she had concluded. She had become accustomed to not seeing him since he'd left and she was sure that he had as well. Cutting herself out of his life completely probably wouldn't be much different for either. At least, that was what she had made herself believe the past few days.

 

 

However, seeing him again tonight, watching him over dinner from the other side of the table the whole night, had stirred something inside her. The only thing was that she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. But something was bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. It felt like an itch she couldn't reach, and it was driving her mad.

 

 

Without further hesitation, she darted over and sat down next to him as she silently went over what she wanted to say. It all sounded perfect in her head, but nothing came out.

 

 

They sat in silence, Marcus watching the party inside while she studied him from the corner of her eyes. He looked haggard and for a moment, she hoped that the thoughts of them kept him awake at night like they haunted her whenever she closed her eyes.

 

 

Did their conversation on Christmas Day have any impact on him, she wondered. Had he laughed at her after she'd left? Deep down, she knew he wouldn't do such a thing, not to her. Still, a fire lit inside her at the mere possibility of him agreeing to this ridiculous 'friends' notion to placate her and get her out of his hair as quickly as possible.

 

 

With her attention fixed on her grandmother and William to distract herself, Katie began seething, her imagination and assumptions further igniting the fire she had felt the sparks of over the last week.

 

 

As she worked herself up, next to her Marcus wracked his brain to come up with a safe and shallow subject to chat about with her. Everything seemed too loaded, had memories sticking to them he didn't want to stir up just yet. In a way, it felt like their first real date all over again. He realised that even Quidditch wasn't a go-to, innocent enough subject anymore.

 

 

"So…" they both started and then, "Sorry."

 

 

Awkward chuckles followed and quickly died down as one waited for the other to say something again. When that didn't happen, they fell silent once more. While Marcus picked at the label on his empty bottle in resignation, Katie focussed on the display inside. Her aunts and the two Mrs Flints fluttered around Nan, admiring the simple ring William Flint had bought her decades ago. The jealousy she felt at witnessing the second chance her grandmother got with the love of her life left her reeling and guilty.

 

 

"Fifty-six years," she muttered in disbelief, shaking her head as her fists clenched in her lap. She refused to wait that long to be reunited with the love of her life. And the flames grew higher.

 

 

"Wot?" Marcus asked absentmindedly without looking up, only vaguely aware that Katie had said something. Unnoticed, his old habit of replying to her ramblings had crept upon him again.

 

 

"More than half a century!" she exclaimed as she pointed at the glass door. "They had to wait that long because of a stupid misunderstanding and awful friends."

 

 

Marcus frowned at her. If she thought that he wanted to discuss how romantic it was, she had another thing coming. "It was hardly a misu-"

 

 

Katie didn't listen to what he had to say, though. All the unsavoury emotions that had built over the past week, reaching a boiling point tonight, finally broke through to the surface. She had apologised to him for her behaviour, dammit. She had done her best to explain where she had been coming from when she said all those terrible things. And instead of making up like they were supposed to, he had accepted her half-arsed proposal to become friends. Who in their right mind would want that after everything they had shared? Well, not her, and she was in her right mind to tell him so.

 

 

She put her hand on his knee, clasping hard in reflex as if he were the lifeline she needed to hold on to for dear life. "I'm not waiting fifty years, Marcus, and I'll be damned to be just one of your mates. I've said sorry; now it's time you meet me halfway."

 

 

The frown lines on Marcus' forehead deepened as he tried to pry her hand off his knee. "No bruising the merchandise, Bell. The League starts next week." When he managed to save his knee from her death grip, he asked, "What are you on about, anyway?"

 

 

Katie let out a growl in frustration and jumped up, her one hand on her hip and the other waved in the air between her and Marcus. "Us, Marcus, I'm talking about us. What else could I be talking about?"

 

 

He huffed in indignation, already knowing where this was heading. It was amusing in a sense; he should have known Katie would baulk at it in the end. And they called him the fickle one. "What about us, mate?"

 

 

"Mate? Is that all I am to you?" It was not what she wanted to hear, but she wasn't ready to give up. Not yet.

 

 

Marcus raised his brows in mock surprise. "I ought to remind you; that was your idea not mine."

 

 

"You agreed quickly enough." Katie held her chin high in the air and crossed her arms. "If it would have been up to you, we still wouldn't be talking. This right here? This is progress thanks to me."

 

 

She held up her hand when he spluttered, well aware of what he wanted to say. She wouldn't let him, of course, because this was different; he had caught her off guard when he'd practically kidnapped her from Diagon Alley. She had no interest in discussing minor details when she had so much more to say. So, she blurted out the next thing that popped up in her mind. "I refuse to be a wrinkled old bride."

 

 

"What's that got to do with us?" Marcus asked slowly, wondering how much he had to drink that he had missed certain parts of their conversation. Or better yet, how much did she have to drink.

 

 

"Everything," Katie retorted tartly, also wondering why of all the things she wanted to say to him that had to be the first to pour out her mouth. Still, she seemed to have lost control over her brain because the next thing that came out made her cringe as she spoke them. "You've until the wedding to make up your mind about us. I won't wait for you forever. And for your information, 'no' is not acceptable."

 

 

Utterly stunned to form a coherent sentence in response to her ultimatum, Marcus watched her stalk away after that, oblivious to her quiet self-scolding. Only when she reappeared on the other side of the glass door, sulking in a corner and clearly talking to herself, he burst out into laughter that ended with a deep sigh.

 

 

What exactly did she want him to do?

 

 

***

 

 

Weeks later, Valentine's Day didn't turn out as Katie had secretly hoped. Instead of owls waiting on her sill carrying cards and chocolates and flowers, she sat at her desk after hours trying to make sense of the next season's Premier League's roster. Even if she hadn't had to work late, she probably would have found something else to busy herself with, like preparing for her grandmother's upcoming Easter wedding.

 

 

Keeping busy had become the new normal for her since New Year's Day after she had given Marcus that ridiculous ultimatum. Each time she thought about it, she cringed in embarrassment. For days after that night, she had berated herself for endangering her newly established contact with him. He probably thought that she had lost her mind and couldn't fault him for avoiding her.

 

He hadn’t taken her serious either way. He hadn't written her or dropped by at her flat once. Nan had rather blandly said that she had mucked up again by going about it in such a manner. As always, her wise advice always came after the fact somehow.

 

 

So, choosing not to wallow in her misery this time around, Katie had thrown herself into her work. With Elena out of commission for awhile after giving birth to a daughter, Katie had taken on her share of the wedding planning as well. She'd do anything to keep her mind off one Marcus Flint, which proved to be a rather challenging endeavour seeing Nan was about to get married into the family. Each time she saw Mrs Flint, the woman looked at her as if she was singlehandedly responsible for all the misery in the world. When she wasn't, she was sure to point out that Marcus had done so well for himself after he had left her.

 

 

"…and that's until the winter stop." Katie dropped her quill and rubbed her tired eyes with the heels of her hands. She felt pleased with herself that she had managed to finish the first part of the roster well before its due time.

 

 

The small clock on her desk showed eight; this cursed day was almost over. She had never received much attention over the years on Valentine's Day from secret or not so secret admirers, not until Marcus. But even last year, when she'd been at her lowest in every way possible, Oliver had found the time to send her a blank card and a box of cheap, disgusting chocolates. She didn't receive something like that this year. Nothing, nada, zero, not even bills.

 

 

After another glance at the clock, she picked up her quill and started on the second part of the Quidditch season. What else was she supposed to do on a night like this?

 

 

Humming along an annoying tune stuck in her mind, Katie diligently worked away the minutes. Immersed in the puzzle before her, she momentarily forgot the world around her and with that, her woes. It wasn't until the mouth-watering smells of food wafted her way, she realised how hungry she had become. Confused about the source of the delicious smell, she looked up. A soft gasp of pleasant surprise escaped her at seeing who stood leaning against the doorframe, holding a greasy looking bag and wilted pink roses.

 

 

"What are you doing here?" Her ink smudged hand shot up to her hair in a vain attempt to straighten herself out.

 

 

Marcus held up the bag, annoyance written all over his face. "Heating Charms can do so much, Bell."

 

 

"I- I have no idea what you mean. Heating Charms for what?"

 

 

"Sure you don't." He reached her desk in two long strides and deposited the bag on it. Then, he shoved the roses in her hand, petals floating in the air and into her lap. He stood there scowling at her, with his hands in his pockets, before he remembered Elena's instruction.

 

 

"Happy sodding Valentine. You were supposed to be home hours ago. Do you know how many times Missus Thorpe tried to hex me off your doorstep?"

 

 

Not exactly what his sister-in-law had meant, but still.

 

 

With pain in her heart, Katie noticed the grease from the bag ooze into the parchments she had worked so hard on. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too ruined for her to copy her work. But, she’d think about that tomorrow because for now, she was famished. 

 

 

"You were waiting for me?" she asked as she sniffed the roses.

 

 

Marcus huffed as he conjured plates and cutlery. He sat down and stuck his nose into the bag, breathing in the aroma of the Chicken Korma and rice he had been waiting to devour for hours.

 

 

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he muttered and then looked up. "So, surprise! Can we eat now, I'm hungry."

 

 

***

 

Marcus hummed now and then at Katie's soft warbling about something or the other as he walked her to her flat through the nearly deserted streets. He had his hand tucked deep in his pockets and she had her arms wrapped around her torso. If had to take a guess, he'd wager that she was afraid of accidentally touching him. He knew he was, no matter how much he wanted to.

 

 

"Too soon," he muttered when he found himself wanting to wrap his arm around her shoulders to keep her warm.

 

 

"What was that?"

 

 

"Nothing," he brushed her off. "What was it about next year's rosters?"

 

 

Just as he had resigned himself to be friends with her, she had to go and change her mind. He didn't mind; he wouldn't have been able to pull it off, anyway. Nevertheless, at the same time, he couldn't see himself picking up where they had left off. Too much had happened for that. How would they work through what had caused their split in the first place if they just dove in head first? Recalling her harsh parting words still hurt, even if she claimed that she hadn't meant any of it.

 

 

"We're here," Katie murmured, hoping that he hadn't heard the quiver in her voice. His change in demeanour hadn't escaped her. She just couldn't figure what had changed in the ten-minute walk from the Ministry to her flat.

 

 

"Yeah, I see that." He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets as he stared at his boots. What were they supposed to do now? Why hadn't he thought this far ahead?

 

 

Katie took a deep breath and laid her hand on his arm. A sheepish smile appeared on her face when he looked up startled. "Do you want to come up? For, uh, tea or something? Desserts maybe? Mum made crump-"

 

 

"No!" It came out much harsher than he had intended to and the speed in which she retracted her hand and the crestfallen look on her face made him feel like an arse. "It's just, uh, I have practice in the morning. I ought to get home."

 

 

"Oh, yes, of course." Katie nodded in fake understanding, hurt by his fake excuse. "Well, then, thank you for dinner and the roses. It was really sweet of you to do that."

 

 

"No problem, that's what friends are for. Besides, I had nothing else to do." Something about foot and mouth came to mind as soon as he uttered the words. He reckoned that it would better to leave now before he caused more damage by opening his gob.

 

 

"Friends…" Katie nodded, drawing a conclusion Marcus didn’t want her to draw just yet. But before he could right his mistake, she had already dredged up her keys from her handbag and dangled them in the air. She looked sad, resigned even and for a minute, he wished that he had ability kick his own arse.

 

 

"I should get up. Thanks again for dinner, Marcus, it was nice seeing you again. I- Goodnight."

 

 

Marcus mumbled something unintelligible and was quick enough to remember to pull his hand out of his pocket to give her an awkward wave. She didn't even look at him, fumbling with her keys in the lock. He quickly turned on his heels without another and stalked away, angry with himself for ending an otherwise near perfect night. He had reached the street corner when dared a sly glance over his shoulder. She still stood by the entrance door, her shoulders shaking. When she noticed him looking, she wiped over her cheeks and hastily turned her back to him.

 

 

What was wrong with him? Leaving now would mean the end, the real one. Maybe, he shouldn't take it as easy as Julius had suggested and listen more to Elena's ideas: snog her silly and then you'll know.

 

 

"Oh, fuck it." Before he could overthink it, he turned around and stalked over to her. He wanted to laugh at the look of surprise on her face when he put his hand on her shoulder and made her turn around. As it was, his actions surprised him as much as they surprised her. All his earlier doubts left him as he looked down into those big brown eyes that had lured him in years ago. Gods, he had missed her so much.

 

 

“I’m sorry,” he told her softly as he rested his forehead against hers. When she didn’t respond, he pulled back in fear that he had passed on his chance.

 

 

"Please, don't leave me," Katie murmured as she reached for his cheek, stroking over the stubble. “Stay with me tonight, forever. I can't lose you again.”

 

 

As he leant down to taste those lips again after a nearly a year and a half, he whispered his answer in her ear, more for his own sanity than hers. It would kill him if this went pear-shaped again.

 

 

"Last time, you got to set the pace. Now it's my turn."

 

 

***

 

 

It was on the Saturday before Easter when a large wedding party overtook one of the reception halls at Gretna Green. What had started as a subdued and awkward get together had quickly turned into a loud and lively affair after a few drinks. The blushing bride and proud groom danced an ancient dance, uncaring about what others thought of them. As it was, they had nothing to be embarrassed about; their supple and at times risqué movements put the youngsters to shame much to everyone's amusement. All, except one or two that is.

 

 

Howard Bell was not one the many merrymakers. He wasn’t as happy as his older brothers and sisters were for their mother. Sulking and hurt that his mum had already replaced his father, he tried to numb his discomfort with a generous glass of Ogden’s Finest. He didn’t care to hear that his dad had arranged for his wife to reconnect with her first love, and all that so-called romantic nonsense.

 

 

The man had been severely confused the last days of his life, after all. Besides, of all the things Howard had expected to see within his lifetime, a Bell-Flint wedding had not been one of them. Especially, this particular Bell-Flint wedding was a bit difficult to handle. All because of Katie.

 

 

He could only imagine how his poor little girl felt about this all. Despite the big smile on her face, he was sure that she was hurting on the inside. Why his mum had thought that making Katie maid of honour would be a good idea was beyond him. Had she not known that William had made Marcus his best man? His poor Katie, he ought to send her on a long vacation to recover from this highly traumatic day, and join her while he was at it.

 

 

“You look as miserable as I feel,” Aloysius Flint grumbled as he leant on the bar next to Howard, interrupting his reveries.

 

 

Howard muttered under his breath in response and pushed the bottle of whisky towards his companion in misery. He felt physically ill at the mere thought that this man would be his stepbrother from this day on. He didn't need any more siblings; he had enough of those to last him a lifetime. And judging by the sour look on Aloysius' face, he felt the same.

 

 

“Who would have thought?” Aloysius grumbled and put the bottle to his lips, not bothering with a glass. He pulled a face of disgust as he signalled the barman to give Howard his own bottle.

 

 

“Blood hell, kill me already. They’re too old,” Howard complained when William dipped his mother and planted a kiss on her lips. A kiss that lasted way too long for his liking. "Oi, old man, give her some room to breathe!"

 

 

Aloysius made retching sounds and took another swig. “If I die tonight, it’ll be their fault. They’re supposed to have outgrown the snogging phase. Oh, Gods, my eyes!” He covered his eyes in misery when he saw his father grab his new wife’s bum and squeeze it.

 

 

Paled significantly at the sight, Howard held up his glass, unsure if he wanted to smash it over William Flint's head or take a sip. Instead, he clinked it with Aloysius' bottle in a poor attempt at a salute. “Here, here, that should have been your toast.”

 

 

“I wanted to, but those traitorous bastards I call family ganged up on me,” Aloysius bitterly answered as he recalled his wife and eldest son’s hour-long tirade after he had read his initial speech to them. Only Marcus had seen the humour in it.

 

 

Speaking of which…

 

 

“Maybe, it’ll get better with the next wedding.”

 

 

Howard, who had been on the verge of tossing back another shot, looked at him in askance. “What do you mean? What wedding? We're not doing this again, over my dead body. One wedding for them is more than enough.”

 

 

“Not them.” Seeing the confused look on Howard’s face, Aloysius waved in the direction of the dancefloor. The sod was going to make him say it loud. “Look around, who are you missing?”

 

 

“What are you on about?”

 

 

“Just look around. It shouldn’t be that difficult.”

 

 

As Howard did as Aloysius ordered him, his featured morphed from puzzlement into surprise and then into frustration. Where in heavens were Katie and that damned, heart-breaking Flint boy? He slammed his glass on the bar in frustration; after everything that they had gone through, she wouldn’t do this to him, would she?

 

 

"Of course, she would." That explained her good mood these past few months. His mother’s bad influence reached far, too far. “Sweet Circe, not again.”

 

 

“Yeah,” Aloysius sighed and patted Howard’s shoulder, feeling his pain. “If they don’t muck it up this time around, we’ll probably be stuck with each other in more ways than one.”

 

 

***

 

 

Eager hands pushed her against the wall of the darkened coatroom and lifted up her skirt for better access. Hungry mouths found each other, biting on lips, tongues pushing and prodding. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.

 

 

“We shouldn’t…” Katie panted when Marcus finally released her lips and trailed wet kisses down her throat. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that they needed to be careful. The danger of getting caught was too high in a place like this. Her little cousins ran around on the on the other side of the door. “…friends… family… something.”

 

 

“Don’t fucking start with friends again,” he muttered against her skin as he prodded her legs apart. Suddenly, his hips thrust forward, grinding his erection against her as he grabbed her chin to make her look at him. “Friends won’t do this, not my kind of friends.”

 

 

“But what if…” She forgot what she wanted to say when tugged her knickers down, cool fingers stroking her overheated flesh. When the first jolt of pleasure shot through her, she quickly decided to quit complaining. They had waited just too long for this.

 

 

His mouth travelled from her breast up to her lips again, kissing her deeply before he trailed off towards her ear. Her eyes rolled back as he bit in her lobe and intensified his movements between her legs; his fingers were thrusting and rubbing her into new heights. He didn’t stop, not until she chanted his name in the crook of his neck, not until she hung boneless in his arms.

 

 

As she came down from her high, her face buried in his chest, he asked the question he had wanted to ask a year and a half ago.

 

 

“Marry me, love


End file.
